Chapter 82: Act 18 – Turning Point
After defeating Sassal, Brendel led the refugees further south. About an hour and a half later, they attacked another undead army. Following their previous victory, the group of refugees maneuvered into the gap between the second and third layers of the search lines in Madara.
Before them lay two nets formed by the three divisions of Dere, Gulu, and the Red Knight, while behind them was a vast undead army of skeletons. It seemed dangerous, but in reality, it enjoyed a clever balance, much like the calm in the eye of a typhoon.
Although the battles inevitably resulted in casualties, Brendel’s plan was still effective.
The undead army of Madara, roaming to the south of the Hunting Deer Hills, quickly discovered a significant problem—the group of refugees that should have been surrounded by them seemed to have vanished as if they had sprouted wings. When the “Death Maggot” Magus gathered with Aibodun and Wesa and continued south to join Gulu, Dere, and the Red Knight, they still did not find the refugees rumored to have fled into Silver Sparrow Mountain.
Could the intelligence be wrong?
As a crafty commander, Magus never believed in luck. He immediately speculated that the refugees were probably hiding in some valley, waiting for the undead army to sweep past them from the hills.
Magus quickly ordered all undead troops in the area to deploy scouts, centering their search around the meeting point to locate the refugee group.
However, as soon as the scouts were dispatched, Gulu, commander of the left flank’s 17th division of the Madara “Obsidian” army, swiftly found himself losing contact with a squadron led by the black knight Sassal, who had seemingly vanished. Before he could figure out what was happening, Dere, commander of the 12th division, encountered the same confusion.
They soon realized that a mysterious army might have silently broken through their encirclement and circled behind them—
But how could this happen? How did a group of one or two thousand people escape from a net comprised of dozens of scouts? If it were luck, it was too fortunate indeed.
Both men did not dare to delay and immediately reported this news to Magus. The “Death Maggot” was furious upon hearing this and almost couldn’t help but throw the case containing the battle map at their faces.
He pointed a finger at the two men and shouted angrily, “You worthless trash! The third batch of students from the Black Rose Academy of Broamente are nothing but useless maggots! Get out of my sight immediately!”
Gulu and Dere dared not retort and retreated, heads down. Only then did Magus calm down and summon Aibodun and Wesa, ordering the undead army to spread out to both flanks, preventing that group of refugees from escaping the encirclement.
Next, he issued a second order for the other three division commanders to search backward. Even though he looked down on these newly emerged dark nobles of Madara, just as he did with that fool Cabais, he deemed it necessary to rely on their strength at this moment.
After all, this was the might of Madara’s new generation—
He was simply worried that he was reacting too late.
In fact, at that moment, Brendel was just passing the second squad of the “Blood Mage” Red Knight, about three miles behind the third squad.
His plan differed somewhat from what Magus anticipated.
Brendel galloped past both sides of the refugee group, pointing out key members among the mounted refugees while loudly instructing them to turn back. His actions were not surprising; in fact, Brendel had already used this method several times to help the refugees avoid Madara’s undead scouts.
When the key members saw this noble knight, they instinctively ordered the refugees in their charge to turn around. However, some cleverly approached to ask, “My lord, have we spotted those monster scouts ahead again?”
“No, we haven’t. Tell them to turn north, discard everything except for food, water, and weapons. We need to prepare to move faster,” Brendel answered while sitting on his horse.
This caught them off guard—north? Wasn’t that the direction of the Madara troops? They had barely managed to escape from that direction, so why were they being told to head back there?
Could it be that this nobleman had suddenly lost his mind?
Brendel tightened the reins, made the horse turn, and comforted the anxious crowd, “Don’t worry, I haven’t gone crazy. Hurry and do it. If you want to live, this is our only chance—”
Everyone looked at Brendel silently. But what else could they do but trust this lord? The nobility of Ridenburg had long abandoned them, with only this kind noble knight remaining to share their hardships and help them repeatedly out of danger.
Moreover, he was so wise and brave. According to the mercenaries, this nobleman seemed like the war god Mars himself on the battlefield, unstoppable. Although it sounded like bragging, the recurring messages of victory and the steady supply of weapons only confirmed this.
With those thoughts, their earlier doubts began to waver again. But what was this lord’s plan? Could it be, as the peacekeepers claimed, that his sword could indeed guide a path toward miracles?
Seeing them silent, Brendel realized that his authority was gradually being established. However, he felt a bit regretful that this authority was merely being held together by the difficult situation, and once the first Black Rose War concluded, all this honor would dissipate.
Thus, he was keenly aware that only personal strength could yield benefits from this war. He reminded himself to keep his eyes on the direction of history and not to be blinded by these illusory things.
Having thought clearly about this, he turned his horse’s head and continued to gallop forward. As if sensing the tension in the atmosphere, the scattered mercenaries gradually gathered around their “lord.” The valley echoed with a rumble, and everyone stopped to witness this scene— it was as if a king were summoning his knights.
The battle was about to begin, and everyone involuntarily tightened their nerves.
After all, it seemed like they had been navigating through this night with ease, but in reality, they were racing against time. Beyond the battles, Brendel held Charles’ silver pocket watch almost constantly—during the most tense moments, his sweating hand even dampened the watch case.
How perilous had the previous battles been? Sometimes they were only separated from another squad of undead scouts by a few minutes—and those minutes made all the difference between heaven and hell.
Finally, Brendel arrived at the front of the line, where Freya and her self-defense corps were already waiting. Besides her, there were also Balthom, Mano, Votalon, Retao, and Julian. They had received Brendel’s notice early but did not understand the young man’s plans.
They had wrapped around behind the undead army, seemingly fulfilling half of their planned strategy, yet why was Brendel now sending them back the way they came?
If Brendel hadn’t firmly established himself as their leader in their hearts, these seasoned mercenaries might not have simply waited for his explanation. Even the weak Freya, trembling atop her horse, appeared uncertain, glancing at him as if about to speak but hesitating.
Brendel glanced at her.
In truth, he had received news indicating that the undead were spreading to both flanks, trying to block that imaginary group of refugees. Meanwhile, the other three divisions seemed to be sweeping back, leaving them with very few choices. Even those who had followed him all along couldn’t help but wonder if they would have to race against the “Death Maggot” while moving outward along the ‘circumference.’
This was not surprising; it was human nature to seek benefit and avoid harm.
However, Madara had gathered two battle groups and seven divisions in this area. Even though these numerous undead occupied a vast territory, the refugees would have to go nearly twenty miles out of their way to completely avoid contact with the enemy.
Therefore, achieving such a feat was unrealistic, especially with the enemy also spreading to the flanks.
In fact, Brendel’s plan was to have these people make a return assault along their original path, delivering an unexpected surprise to the zombie lord.
After defeating two squads of Madara, the weapons collected were redistributed, enough to arm a force of five or six hundred, while Brendel drew out every able-bodied refugee from the two thousand, regardless of gender, expanding the self-defense corps to nearly five hundred members.
Of course, as long as he assigned Retao and others to command, he could pull in even more people. However, that was no longer necessary; as the Madara army spread too quickly to both flanks, the central force was inevitably thinned—conditions for a counter-strike were fully ripe.
Brendel had scouts far superior to Madara’s, so he was certainly entitled to choose when, where, and how many of Madara’s troops to engage. This was also his greatest advantage.
Now, he would use this advantage to charge back into the heart of Madara, keeping them guessing about what exactly he wanted.
But he stopped his horse, not rushing to explain his intentions, instead looking at Freya. The young girl appeared pale and on the verge of collapse in the saddle, compelling him to ask, “Why don’t you get down and rest a bit, Freya?”
Freya shot him an annoyed glare.
Brendel chuckled wryly, “Who told you to stubbornly tough it out? I said let me bandage you, yet you wouldn’t listen.”
The future Valkyrie felt her face flush all the way to her neck, thinking what shameless thing this guy was saying. How could a girl let him bandage her? It was simply outrageous.
She deeply resented Brendel’s idle talk, turning her head away in irritation to avoid letting others get the wrong idea.
However, Brendel was momentarily dazed by this scene. Could Charles have been deceiving him? How could he possibly see that Freya liked him from here? He couldn’t help but turn back with a doubtful look at the young mage squire.
“Lord, how may I serve you?” Charles responded nervously, feeling his gaze.
“No, nothing,” Brendel quickly shook his head.
When Brendel turned back, he found the mercenaries watching him and Freya with suppressed snickers. In fact, throughout this day and night, they had already inquired from Charles about all the relationships between this noble lord and his two ladies.
Certainly, it was this very Brendel that made them feel a sense of closeness, bringing them back from the many halos that had distanced them before. People naturally tend to trust those who are like themselves; they respect geniuses but seldom trust them from the heart.
“What are you laughing at?”
“No, no, nothing, my lord, you must be mistaken,” they responded in unison.
“Let’s hope so,” Brendel shot them an annoyed look, “Otherwise, watch your backs! Now, I don’t want to explain too much to you all. I’ll say just one thing—prepare for battle!”
He drew his sword.
*
As the refugees once again gathered under Brendel’s sword.
This massive force turned around, and the first to suffer was the “Blood Mage” Red Knight. This time Brendel made no attempt to conceal their tactical intentions—his tactic was simply one: fast, faster!
The self-defense corps of five hundred and over fifty cavalry swept like a dragon over the squad assigned to Red Knight on his left, and the more than two hundred skeleton soldiers could not withstand the relentless assault of Brendel.
After the young man led his knights to sweep past like a whirlwind, it wasn’t until half an hour later that Red Knight realized he had lost his left flank.
When this mid-level necromancer transmitted the news back to Magus, Brendel had already advanced another three miles, standing on the body of the last squad leader of Gulu’s remaining force while his refugee followers accelerated forward.
Accelerating relentlessly.
He glanced at the White Deer statue; it was still about fifty minutes until the Knight King’s throne appeared in the night sky—
……
(PS. Today there have only been about 40 tickets, sadness. Is there really no hope for the top three? This chapter is over 3,800 words, and I apologize for that.
There’s still an update tonight.) (To be continued. For more details, please log in. More chapters await. Support the author and legitimate reading!)
